


When There Are No Firsts

by Kitty_KatAllie



Category: Eyeshield 21
Genre: Angst, M/M, NO SRSLY SUPER UNREQUITED, Sena POV, Shin POV, Unhappy Ending, Unrequited Crush, Well - Freeform, even the second chapter! no happy ending yall, mostly happiness is all relative and rikusena if you squint really hard
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-08
Updated: 2016-09-08
Packaged: 2018-08-13 20:34:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,774
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7985308
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kitty_KatAllie/pseuds/Kitty_KatAllie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>What if Sena's confession to Shin had gone completely different? What if Sena put his heart out there, but there was no place for it? Sometimes wishes don't come true, but that doesn't mean it's the end of the world. No matter how much it hurts them both.</p><p>(AU of What's It Like, 'Firsts')</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Shin's Guilt

Cold air steamed in the air between them. Beneath his thighs, Shin could feel the freezing burn of winter-chilled metal: the merry-go-round they sat on as they’d done countless times before. Snow covered the world around them in white, pure and perfect, marred only by their footsteps, and shining a pearly grey as dawn broke over the edges of the Tokyo’s skyline behind them. 

Beside him, Shin could _feel_  Sena shaking, hear the slosh of liquid against the inside of the neoprene bottle he rolled back and forth between his palms. With a start, Sena held it out, eyes glued to the ground at his feet. Gradually, feeling more awkward than he’d ever felt, Shin took the bottle back, careful to keep his hand from brushing the other boy’s in any way. 

“What did you want, Eyeshield?” Shin finally managed to force past lips that felt numb. Logically, it should be on account of the cold, but he had a feeling it wasn’t. At all. Especially when Sena Kobayakawa flinched away at the admittedly harsh sounding words. 

“I-I d-don’t w-want anything _sp-specific_ , I guess. I j-just… I w-wanted t-to t-t-tell you,” was Sena’s stammering reply, fingers, now free from the bottle, twisting and wringing together in his lap. 

Shin had never done pity. Disappointment, yes. But not pity. He wouldn’t disrespect Sena’s feelings _now_ by having pity this time. But how to reply? How to fix this sudden gaping wound that was building- no, _tearing_ between them.

“I’ve never wanted those kinds of feelings. From anyone. I don’t have them, never felt them necessary to beginwith,” Shin attempted to explain. He leaned forward, forearms resting on his knees. He couldn’t turn. He couldn’t see whatever face was currently twisting up Sena’s all too expressive features. He didn’t want to see it, and then forget it, like it didn’t matter because he’d turned away and could no longer _see_. He hadn’t really told anyone about his _condition_ , but for once, in his life, it was a boon. A crutch he could lean on. 

Because the idea of seeing Sena in a pain Shin _didn’t understand_ was too much to bear. 

Injuries on the field– tackles that left behind bruises, falls that made bloody scrapes, pushing physical limits that had muscles and ligaments straining; those things Shin could understand.

But this was different. _So different_. In the depths of his mind, Shin knew whatever he said next– he’d be _disappointing Sena_ for the first time since they’d met. 

“I don’t have those feelings for you, Sena. Or for anyone else, male or female, if that… if that helps in any way,” Shin stated, voice soft if unshaking. 

A blurted out laugh- small twisted broken parody of the laugh Shin had come to know so well- slipped past Sena’s lips. 

“No, it’s okay. I kinda thought- I mean, I never noticed… but I thought I should try,” Sena words jerked out of him, unsteady and a little too high-pitched. 

Silence fell again and Shin felt… _scared_. He felt scared to look up. Too scared to meet the disappointment, the shame, that colored Sena’s words.

“You’re… you’re one of the most important people in my life, Sena,” Shin murmured, hands clenched into fists. “You’re _my friend_. Will this… will my answer-”

“ _NO, oh God no,_ Shin-san!” Sena exclaimed. His hands fell over Shin’s. Bright white gloves, his name stitched neatly onto the backs by his mother in bright ruby thread. He’d always been more tactile than Shin, but also shyer. Comforting, however, always brought out that need for touch. 

Finally, Shin raised his eyes. It took a supreme amount of willpower, which fortunately the linebacker had in spades, not to flinch. In his desire to _help Shin_ , Sena forgot about the tears at the corners of his eyes, his wobbling words firmed even as his lips still trembled into a weak, reassuring smile. 

“How I feel- I will _always_ see you as my friend. As my greatest rival. You will always be someone I look up to. I _like_ you Shin, but I like you without romantic strings attached, too. If you… If you’re okay, then me… me, too,” Sena said… and he said it so _bravely_. Sena was not only the fastest man Shin had ever met, he was also the _strongest_. 

Shin wished he could feel the same, could return those feelings, but it was only relief that unclenched the tension in his chest and shoulders at Sena’s promise. Relief that he wouldn’t lose what Sena had given him already, what he was willing to accept and return. Shin was a selfish man, apparently. A selfish _guilty_ man _._

 _“_ I will always feel that way, too. As for anything more, I-I’m _so_ -” Shin tried, voice and expression pained. 

But Sena cut him off, getting to his feet and glaring, fists clenching. “Don’t. Just _don’t say you’re sorry_. It’s okay. I don’t need that. I… I’m going to go first. If that’s okay?” Sena asked, the trembling now outright shaking as his darkened eyes fell away.

“Yes, of course,” Shin said, getting to his own feet and standing- awkward and hands hanging empty at his sides. “Your journey… to America. Take care.”

Sena nodded, lips rolled tightly together. “I’ll s-see you when I get back,” he whispered. And then he ran.

Shin watched him go and wished it were the field, when the instinct to chase would take him. But he merely stood in place as snow fell.


	2. Sena's Comfort

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> [Sena]’d spent four months desperately trying not to think of him and now there he stood, tall and burly and _Shin_. He was exactly as Sena remembered and it hurt. Like too hot water on too chilled skin.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yeah, don't read this while listening to "Good Enough" by Evanescence. Unles you're a sick emotional sadist like me...

Four and a half months. A lot could happen in four and a half months. Sena could give you a _list_  of the many things that could happened in four months. 

Sena could move to entirely new country.

He could learn countless new maneuvers and skills in American football. 

He could convince not only his entire team of (mammoth-sized) teammates he was worthy of the Eyeshield 21 title, but he could also convince an entire school of it. 

His English could improve drastically, to fluent understanding and broken, yet comprehensible production. (His r’s and l’s sounded different and everything now!) 

He could make dozens of new friends. 

See the Grand Canyon, go to Chicago and eat one of the best donuts of America, and stand on the shore of the Lake of Michigan (he even tried surfing on a _lake_  but it was _really cold_ and he was _really bad_ at it), visit Texas again and eat the spiciest foods he’d ever had (Mexican dishes were _painful_ ) while his old NASA Alien friends laughed; those he could do, too.  

So many amazing and fun things during an experience he enjoyed to its fullest, never taking it for granted. 

But four months wasn’t long enough to be ready to see him again

The game against the Cupids ended with the none-too-surprising conclusion- the utter demolishment under Enma’s powerhouse heel. Sena laughed as his friends clapped his back, or hugged him so tight his ribs cracked, or kissed his cheek (Suzuna and Mamori, he expected, but  _why Mizumachi? why!?)_. Tears were probably gathered in the corners of his eyes because four months was an eternity with friends like these. He managed to pull himself away from the overwhelming amount of arms and hands to stumble almost right into him. 

Into Shin. 

With his arms crossed over his chest and an inscrutable not-frown on his face. He’d spent four months desperately trying _not_  to think of him and now there he stood, tall and burly and _Shin_. He was exactly as Sena remembered and it _hurt_. Like too hot water on too chilled skin. 

“Welcome back, Eyeshield,” Shin rumbled.

Sena loved and hated that title. “Hi, Shin-san. It’s good to be back.”

“You were missed. Training isn’t as satisfactory when there’s no challenge at the end,” Shin told him simply. 

To Sena’s shock, Shin actually _fidgeted_. Not a lot by any means. A mere shuffle of his feet, a slight flexing of his arms while the muscle in his jaw jumped. Slowly, with all the cheer he could muster, Sena smiled wide.

“There were a lot of strong players in America, but it wasn’t the same knowing I wouldn’t be facing you at any of my games. I hope you’re ready for Enma’s win at this year’s Rice Bowl.”

A gleam shone in Shin’s eye, approval and relief relaxing the tense frown into something like a smile. _That_  smile. The smile that had started it all. Sena’s heart froze and thudded twice as fast and twice as hard at the sight. 

“I look forward to seeing you _try_.”

“Yo, this ain’t about the Rice Bowl _yet._ Why you trying to be so cool, Sena?” Monta teased, throwing his arm around Sena’s neck. On Sena’s other side, Riku held onto Sena’s shoulder and rubbed his knuckles into the crown of Sena’s head, laughing freely. 

“He’s thinks because he’s the real Eyeshield 21 now he can put up this front and trick everyone into believing he’s hella rad. We all know you’re still a dork underneath the uniform, Sena,” Riku taunted. 

Sena couldn’t help but laugh, heart pounding and relief turning his knees and spine to water. He was swept away into the crowd and Sena didn’t turn back.

But at the end of the night, as friends broke away and the late night loomed, his hand reached out. It clasped onto cloth and his knuckles turned white at the tightness of his grip. 

“Please… do you have to go back now?” he whispered. 

His best friend, the one he trusted and loved the longest, turned and gave him a bemused smile, blue eyes shining in the light of the karaoke bar the remainder of the group stood under. 

“Sena-kun? If I want to catch the last train, I have to…” Mamori trailed off when she caught sight of how tense his hand was, how pale his face had become. Bemusement became kind concern and she smiled softly. “No, Sena-kun. Why don’t I walk you home, if Mama and Papa Kobayakawa won’t mind?”

“Of course they won’t. You’re _family_ , Mamori-neechan,” Sena replied with a tremulous smile that gave away the need he hid. 

The walk, after waving off the last of their friends, was silent. Mamori kept her eyes on the dark sky, humming lightly and tunelessly, while he trudged at her side, eyes on the ground. His parents greeted them at the door, gushing over Mamori almost as much as over Sena, tears in their eyes as they kissed and hugged their dearly missed only child. They were bundled away into Sena’s freshly cleaned room with tea and snacks and promises to set up the guest futon for Mamori since they refused to let her take a taxi back to Saikyoudai so late at night. The silence of the walk returned, but Mamori sipped her tea and merely waited, gaze on Sena’s profile. 

“Before I left.” He stopped. Pulled in a deep whistling breath as his hands tightened around the mug of lukewarm tea he hadn’t lifted to his lips.

A gentle, warm hand fell on his knee and squeezed affectionately. “Take your time, Sena-kun.”

The breath shuddered out of him in a strange broken sound. “It’s so stupid. I shouldn’t… I shouldn’t hurt this much. I’m stronger than this, Mamori-neechan. I can be happy and have fun and it all _means_  something, but I’m tired of pretending like it didn’t happen. I just wanna… I just need to fall apart for a minute.”

“Sena-kun, what-”

“I told Shin-san I liked him. I told him I _liked_  him, Mamori-neechan. Before I left.” The movement of his head was fast and jerky, almost robotic, as he turned to meet her wide eyes. Wide eyes that looked blurred and shapeless in his vision.

“Oh. _Oh, Sena_ ,” Mamori whispered, knowing exactly what must’ve happened. 

“I haven’t told _anyone_  Mamori-neechan. Only Shin-san and _you_. Why does it still hurt? I spend four months being _strong_ , and making _friends_ , and I have so many people who care about me, but he looks at me like nothing’s changed for him and it _hurts so damn much_.” His breath got choppy and rapid, and he barely noticed the hand that plucked his tea away.

Arms enfolded him, the scent of lavender and football chalk and grilled meat and rose soap. _Mamori-neechan._ Sena felt himself collapse against her chest, face burying in her soft jersey coat, but he bit down on his lip, sounds muffled by stubbornness alone. 

“It’s okay, Sena. It’s okay to cry. You’re with me now,” Mamori promised, cheek pressing to his hair and hand rubbing up and down his back. “If you can’t cry with your neechan who can you cry with?”

A shudder ran down his spine and he _let go_. Four months and this was what he was waiting for every night he lay on his loaned-bed and stared at the ceiling. His arms wrapped around her narrow waist and he _sobbed_. Shoulder shaking, chest heaving, choking wet sobs escaping. 

“I could’ve loved him, Mamori-neechan. I know I could’ve,” he slurred into her collarbone, fingers digging into her coat. 

“I know, Sena. I know.”

“How do I stop hurting, Mamori-neechan?” he begged. 

Her fingers slipped through his hair, soothing and motherly. “I’ll tell you a secret, Sena-kun,” she murmured. “It’ll get better. One day you won’t hurt this badly. It’ll be faster than you think, but it’ll feel like forever. But it _will_  happen. And it’ll be because you’re _ready_.”

“What if I don’t _want_  to? I don’t _want_  to stop feeling this way,” Sena protested weakly. “Two years. I’ve had these feelings for two years. How can I feel like this for someone else? I don’t want to do this again.”

“Then don’t.” He blinked, burning film of tears sliding down his cheeks, unnoticed compared to the flood before. “Your feelings won’t just disappear, Sena-kun. They’re important and special and you deserve to feel however you want. You don’t have to fall in love again if you don’t want to. If you can find happiness and satisfaction in your life with friendships and hard work, then you are _not incomplete_. If one day you fall in love again, you’ll be just as brave then as you were this time. Because that’s who you are, and _those_  feelings will be just as special as these ones. If you love Shin for the rest of your life and no one else, then that’s okay, too. 

“Do what’s right for _you_. What matters is that you find a way to feel content in _your way_. As long as you’re _happy_ , then it’s the right way.”

Sena sniffled and pressed his damp face to her equally damp jacket.

“T-Thank you, Mamori-neechan.”

“Always, Sena-kun. I will _always_  be here for you. Thank you for trusting me with this.”

He had no idea how long they sat on his bed curled around each other. But the next day, past puffy, bloodshot eyes, he smiled brightly, _genuinely_  as he waved goodbye at his door. Mamori looked back one last time, smile reassuring and _kind_  and _believing_ , and with one last wave, she walked out of sight. 

* * *

 

… _Eight Months Later_

Snow fell, kissing his flushed sweaty cheeks. The roars of the crowd were still echoing in his ears. Satisfaction and _joy_  swelled in him. A hand fell on his shoulder, startling him out of his reverie. Shin stared down at him, still in his gear like Sena and sweat sliding down his temples. That pang of yearning and hurt was distant, tinny, buried low. Pride and sincere pleasure in Shin’s company curved his lips into a cheek-splitting grin. 

“Good game, Eyeshield.”

Sena held up his hand and, with a huff of amusement, Shin slapped their palms together. It didn’t linger. There was no subtle brush of fingertips to his palm. Just a high-five like any other. 

“Great game. Told you we’d win today.”

“Next time, it’ll be Oujou.”

“Only if you can catch me,” Sena retorted, smile crooked and almost _smug_. Shin nodded, lips twitching, then he turned away towards the Oujou team. Sena watched his broad back get further away. Until a body slammed into his back and Riku’s hand was ruffling Sena’s sweaty, snowy hair. 

“What’re you doing, fraternizing with the enemy? We’re the winners today, Sena. Come celebrate with us,” Riku demanded, grinning and eyes glittering in his triumph. Sena laughed and let himself be dragged towards the locker rooms. ~~He didn’t notice the way Riku didn’t pull away, or even how _he_ didn’t.~~

But he did notice it didn’t hurt so much to walk away and not look back.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> RikuSena if you squint hard enough? Does that help at all? NO? Didn't think so. *goes to cry*

**Author's Note:**

> SO UH, FUCK ME??!!


End file.
